


10 hours jean and eren spent in each other's personal space

by dizzyondreams



Series: roadtrip au [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, shit babies on a road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Eren inadvertently end up on a road trip alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10 hours jean and eren spent in each other's personal space

Eren hadn’t exactly expected to see Jean pulling up to his kerb that Friday afternoon in his rusty old Ford, and was even more displeased when he noticed he was the sole occupant of the car. Grumbling to himself, Eren hefted his heavy rucksack on his shoulder and walked up to the passenger side window. Jean grinned up at him through his sunglasses and rolled the window down.

“Where’s everyone else?” Eren demanded, glancing in the back of the car in case this was some sort of prank. Jean was nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, they flaked out on us, man.” He didn’t sound as upset as his expression seemed, and was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to a song only he could hear. It looked like Morrisey, maybe.

“What, everyone?” Eren couldn’t believe this. He could not fucking believe this. “Even _Sasha_?” 

Jean nodded gravely. “Where’s Mikasa and Armin?”

“I told you, she’s away at training camp and Armin has work!” Eren exclaimed, and sagged against the side of the car. “Jean, are you telling me I’m gonna be sitting in a car with you for ten hours with no one else to act as some kind of buffer for your bullshit?”

“’fraid so, man.” Jean gave him a smug smile than Eren just wanted to shake off his dumb face. “Don’t worry, Connie dropped ‘round a sweet mixtape and some weed, we’re set for this.” He thumped his hand on the dashboard. “We don’t need Bert’s rich boy car, this’ll get us there.”

Eren sincerely disagreed. He desperately needed Bert’s rich boy car. He desperately needed someone, _anyone_ , else than Jean fucking Kirschtein. “Not even Marco?” He whined, pulling a face when Jean shook his head, no. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die in this goddamn car.”

“Nah, c’mon, you’ll be fine.” Jean said reassuringly. “We don’t even have to talk to each other.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jean.” Eren muttered, before opening the door to slide into the seat and twisting to chuck his rucksack into the back. “Let’s just fucking go.”

\---------

_Hour 1_

Maybe planning a road trip with such a distressingly unreliable group of friends wasn’t one of Eren’s more intelligent ideas, but he’d expected at least _one_ of them not to flake out on him. Well, he supposed, glaring across at Jean, not everyone had flaked out on him. But Jean didn’t really count - he probably only turned up just so he could annoy Eren with his presence or something. Eren leant his head against the car window and mourned the loss of what was going to be a seriously good weekend.

They were going to travel to New York for the weekend, a ten hour trip from Chicago that Eren had been psyching himself up for for over a month. It was his first trip to the city, and whilst Chicago had a lot of things that Eren held very dear to his heart (mainly pizza and pop punk), he desperately wanted to experience New York.

Or at least, he had. The thought of having to put up with Jean all weekend was giving him a mild migraine. Silently, he prayed for a brain aneurysm so he wouldn’t have to listen to Jean make cracks about the Statue of Liberty for two days straight. Eren groaned and thudded his head against the window at the thought.

“Eren, I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re not over the moon to be solo-ing New York with me.” Jean said, his tone mockingly hurt. Eren shot him a disparaging look.

“Why ever would you think that, asshole?” He mumbled, trying to get comfortable. His legs were way too long for the front seat because Jean’s car was so shitty and tiny. The thought of the amount of time he was about to voluntarily spend in this death trap made him want to poke his eyes out. “Why is this car so small.”

“Buy me a new one then.” Jean shot back, fairly. “Can we switch driving when it gets dark? I hate driving at night.”

Unfair, but Eren shrugged and nodded. Jean had refused his offer of gas money, so it was kind of Eren’s duty to agree to something like that. He hunkered down in his seat and scowled, cursing his bad fucking luck.

It wasn’t that he hated Jean. He’d even say that they were quite good friends. They got along most of the time, but fighting and arguing was just part of their friendship. Already, Eren’s hand was itching to slap the back of Jean’s head as he pressed play yet again on that stupid mixtape Connie had made, but he banished the urge from his mind. If they were going to spend this much time around each other, Eren didn’t want to waste a fight within the first hour of their trip.

So, it wasn’t as if they weren’t friends, at least. After all, Jean had given Eren his first broken nose, and that’s not something a guy forgets about so easily. There were just about a thousand other people Eren would rather be sharing a very small space with. 

Eren just stared out the window and watched the country whip past as he cursed just about every deity he could think of. Meanwhile, Jean amused himself to singing along to Madonna in an off-key baritone.

\---------

_Hour 2_

“Connie would be mooning the cars next to us right now.” Eren sighed wistfully, his elbow propped up on the car door and his chin planted firmly in his palm. Jean hummed in agreement.

“I’ll moon the cars next to us if you take the wheel.” He offered, but Eren shook his head.

“It just wouldn’t be the same.” He lamented. “No one wants to see your skinny white ass.”

“Hey, speak for yourself.”

Eren rolled his eyes. Whatever. Jean’s ass wasn’t actually that bad. Not that Eren had been looking, but. Like he said, whatever.

“I’m starving.” He commented, looking sidelong at Jean, who was on his phone, the fuck. “You’re gonna kill us, Kirschtein.”

“Blow me, Jaeger.” He suggested placidly. “We’ll stop at the next gas station we see and stock up.”

Eren settled back in his seat and ruminated on Jean’s dick for a little while, before dismissing the thought entirely and propping his feet up on the dash. He did it mainly to aggravate Jean, to be honest. He was unbelievably bored. He could only imagine how much fun it would be with the whole gang crammed into Bert’s big car; Connie, Sasha, Mikasa, Armin, Reiner, Annie, Marco, Ymir, Krista.

“Your sunglasses look stupid.”

Eren jabbed Jean in the side for that. “They’re designer, you fuck.”

\---------

_Hour 3_

“Get Doritos!” Jean called after Eren as he jogged toward the gas station shop. He held up a hand in affirmation before pushing the door open, hearing the bell ring to signal his presence to old woman at the counter. She shot him a sunny smile which he returned half heartedly before ducking into the snack aisle.

He and Jean had agreed on a strict budget of ten dollars per pit stop to spend on whatever crap they were feeling like. After a moments deliberation between cool ranch and chilli heat wave Doritos, Eren put them both in the basket and moved on to the energy drinks. Considering he was going to be driving the night shift, Eren wanted to be fully prepared with as many Red Bulls as possible. He was going to arrive at New York a shaking, vibrating mess, but they’d arrive alive.

The woman at the counter rang up his purchases with only a mild expression of horror on her face, and whilst she did that Eren cast his gaze around the gas station parking lot. He spotted Jean and gave him a little wave before he realised what he was doing. Looking similarly surprised, Jean waved back. Eren dropped his gaze to the counter and made a face. Obviously all this alone time with Kirschtein was getting to him. What sort of person was Eren going to be when they arrived to New York? It would be a miracle if he wasn’t making douchey obscure film references by then.

He looked up again to catch Jean looking at him from his spot near the car, and scowled. Pretentious bastard. His arms looked good in that t-shirt. Eren gave him the middle finger before turning back to pay for the food.

“A pack of Marlboro menthols too, please.” He added as an afterthought. 

Jean was back in the car by the time Eren had paid and bagged up all the food, and his sunglasses were firmly back on his face, hiding his eyes. However, his expression was surprised Eren tossed the pack of cigarettes at him without looking him in the eyes.

“Here.” He said, twisting around to put the shopping bag on the back seat. He heard Jean make a pleased noise, and when he turned back Jean was grinning at him.

“How’d you know which to get?” He asked, fidgeting with the packet of smokes. Eren shrugged one shoulder and put his boots up on the dash.

“We’ve been friends for twelve years, idiot, you think I don’t know what you smoke?” He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Jean thanked him before pulling out a cigarette and placing it between his lips. Eren ignored how touched his voice sounded.

\--------

_Hour 4_

“I cannot fucking believe you’ve never seen a Godard film.” Jean said in an affronted tone around his cigarette. Eren looked out the window and tried not to react. He really didn’t need a lecture on French cinema right now. “What’s your favourite movie?”

“You know it’s Die Hard, you tool.” Eren muttered listlessly, hand snaking out to steal Jean’s cigarette from between his lips. When he put it to his mouth, he grimaced. Figures that Jean was the sort to get the filter wet with his big, stupid mouth.

“Well excuse me for thinking your movie taste might have changed since you were fifteen, Eren.” Jean said sarcastically, stealing his cigarette back from Eren and giving him a disappointed look. “Try to watch something with a little _intellectualism_. Something that’ll make you _think_.”

“No thanks.” Eren muttered, craning his head to see the driver of a truck next to them. “That’s not really my scene.”

He could practically feel Jean switching into French New Wave lecture mode. Eren crammed some Doritos into his mouth and got himself comfortable.

“Have you even seen _Masculin Féminin_?” Jean exclaimed. Eren kept quiet, recognising a rhetorical question when he heard one. Jean fucking knew he‘d never seen it. “It’s fucking _seminal_ , man. It’s fucking art. You’ve got this pseudo-intellectual guy who’s totally head over heels for this pop star and it’s just such a poignant mix of tragedy and satire - I mean, Godard is the master of blending those and-”

Eren let Jean’s voice fade into background noise comfortably. It was one of those things with Jean - he was a pretentious ass when it came to movies, or as he called it _‘cinema‘_. Eren tipped his head back against the headrest and surveyed the water stained roof of the car as Jean prattled on about Marxism and Coca Cola.

“Die Hard is fuckin’ seminal, man.” He said out of nowhere, interrupting Jean’s sentence. If he hadn’t, Jean would have spoken the entire road trip and still had more to talk about on the way back, and Eren would be a dry husk too bored to enjoy New York.

“Not in the same way, Eren.” Jean said with such an air of self-affected pretentiousness that it made Eren grit his teeth. 

“Actually, I think it is.” He said lightly, determined to wind Jean up. “I think that John McTiernan blends action and romance so _successfully_ and I mean, it’s obviously an allegory for modern consumerism and-”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Jaeger?” Jean looked personally affronted. Eren bit back a smile. Way too easy. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? There’s no deep meaning behind fuckin’ _Die Hard_ , you tool. Can you even hear yourself, Jesus.”

Eren snorted. This was the guy who had gone on an hour long lecture on how Toy Story was an allegory for PTSD. What absolute horseshit.

“Believe what you want, Jean.” He said airily. “I mean, you’re the film student, right? I’m just the dumb history major.” 

“Stick to what you know, and I’ll stick to what I know, alright?” Jean’s eyelid was practically twitching. Eren grinned and settled back into the seat.

“Yeah, I’ll stick to history and you stick to your Gonard dude.” There was nothing that got Jean more irritated than mispronouncing director’s names. 

He could practically hear Jean grinding his teeth down.

\--------

_Hours 5 & 6_

The car smelt pleasantly of menthol cigarettes and Eren kept finding himself drifting off against the window by the time they passed Indiana. After he smacked his head because of a particularly harsh bump in the road, Eren gave up and settled into a more comfortable position: knees against his chest and head resting on his knees. It gave him a crick in his neck, but at least he wasn’t hitting his head every five minutes. He heard Jean made an indignant noise and cracked his eyes open to glare.

“I’m sorry, do you have something to say?”

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, man.” Jean whined, looking away from the road for a minute to give Eren a sad look. “My butt’s numb and a big biker dude keeps making eye contact with me whenever we stop in the traffic.”

Eren huffed out a laugh against his knees, letting his eyes drop shut again. “I’m sleepy.”

“Eren!” Jean exclaimed. “We are road tripping! We can sleep when we’re dead, let’s get stoned or take pictures out of the window or see how many cigarettes we can smoke without puking!” 

“Your enthusiasm is infectious.” Eren mumbled. “Don’t worry, I won’t sleep, I’m too uncomfortable.”

Jean was silent then for a few minutes, and Eren found himself drowsing peacefully despite the pain in his neck. Naturally, Jean fucking ruined it.

“You can put your head on my lap if you want.” He said, like that wasn’t the weirdest fucking thing Eren had ever heard come out of Jean Kirschtein’s mouth in his entire life.

“Pardon me?”

“Like! If you need to sleep!” Jean exclaimed, eyes on the road. Eren stared at him in disbelief, then at his lap. He had to admit, it was pretty tempting. He’d hadn’t gotten any sleep the previous night because he was preparing for New York in the customary fashion of every student ever: panicked last minute packing.

“Jean, I’m not going to fall asleep on your lap like fuckin’ Jane Eyre, or whatever.” Eren had never read Jane Eyre in his life.

Jean crossed his wrists over the steering wheel and hunched his shoulders forward. Eren noticed with horror that the tips of his ears were red. “Jesus, forget it. Just thought you could do with a rest before it’s your turn to drive.”

Infuriatingly, Jean was completely right. Right now, even with energy drinks inside of him, there was a very real risk of him falling asleep at the wheel. More than 24 hours of being awake was cruel. He huffed grumpily, wondering if Jean would be any more of an awkward fuck.

“Fine, whatever, just don’t like. Get a boner on my head or something.” He said tersely, shrugging off his hoodie and unbuckling his seat belt. Jean rolled his eyes, but he still wasn’t looking at Eren, eyes trained on the road like he wasn’t even aware they were in a completely immobile line of traffic.

“You’re such an ass, Eren.” 

“Fuck you, Kirschtein.” Eren muttered, gingerly resting his head on Jean’s thigh and trying to make himself comfortable against the centre console. “This isn’t a lot more comfortable.” He grunted, letting his eyes flutter shut as Jean took the handbrake off and they started moving again. “You have really goddamn bony thighs.”

“Sorry, princess.” Jean muttered. “Get some sleep.”

“We’ll smoke up when I’m awake again.” Eren murmured, shifting until he found a less painful position.

“Yeah, okay.” Jean murmured, then he was silent, and Eren drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up it was twilight, Eren’s back was in agony and Jean had his hand curved comfortably against Eren’s neck. 

Eren’s first instinct was to shake his hand off and yell at him to cover up the awkwardness, but he suppressed it. It was actually quite nice. It reminded him of when Mikasa would sit with him whenever he was ill. He kept very still and studied Jean through heavy eyelids, the surprise of waking up to find Jean fucking _caressing_ him not having woken him up very much. 

The car was just dark enough that Eren had to strain to make out Jean’s features in the half-light. One side of his face was lit by the oncoming traffic, leaving the other in near darkness. He actually wasn’t a bad looking guy. Eren could admit that. It was weird, having known Jean for such a long time. Eren had practically watched him change from a gangly spotty teen with braces and a bad sense of style to an admittedly hot guy. He still had the same long face but somewhere along the line he’d developed a jaw line and cheekbones, which had thrown Eren off a little. Not to mention the way he’d shot up seemingly overnight. He was still skinny, smaller than Eren across the shoulders, and he couldn’t put on muscle as much as Eren could, but he was wiry and lean in a way Eren could appreciate.

Eren shifted slightly, trying to ease the pain in his back brought on by the awkward angle he was curled up in. Jean didn’t move his hand, just hummed along quietly to that goddamn mixtape. Eren was throwing it out the window at the first opportunity.

The thing about Jean though, was that he hadn’t changed at all in the twelve years Eren had known him. He was still as obnoxious as he had been at ten years old. It was both a good thing and a bad thing. Eren lay there and watched him drive for a little while, lost in thought. He always got introspective after a nap.

Jean was just so _antagonistic_ and stubbornly pessimistic, which was something which really got to Eren. And _lazy_. Jesus fuck, was Jean lazy. He was always looking for the easy way out, the sort of guy who’d miss a lecture to play X-box even though it meant more work for him in the future.

Not to mention all that unchecked aggression, Jesus. Eren got the distinct impression that Jean wasn’t hugged enough as a child. 

But for all that, Eren liked Jean. The fights and petty arguments aside, he was good to be around. Especially since he’d mellowed out a lot since leaving home - he and Eren hadn’t had a proper fist fight in _months_. Eren himself had mellowed out since he’d discovered the joys of getting really and properly stoned on the regular. 

Jean was a good time, despite the pessimism, which was also something he seemed to be growing out of, thank fuck. Eren was even finding himself enjoying the road trip of hell, which was surprising to say the least. 

Like, yeah, Jean was a pretentious fuck, but he was also one of the most stupidly loyal people Eren had ever met. Apart from Marco, but he took loyalty to another level. Jean was an idiot who would stand up for his friends no matter the circumstance. He’d even jumped into a few fights to defend Eren over the years, which was frankly touching. Eren just fucking enjoyed being around him, enjoyed his lectures of French cinema, enjoyed getting into fights with him, enjoyed -

Oh, fuck.

Eren stared up at Jean’s stupid, oblivious face in horror. Oh, _fuck_.

He thought about the way Connie looked at Sasha, soft and pleased and so _happy_. The way Ymir looked at Krista, awestruck that there could be anyone like her in the world. The way Mikasa looked at him and Armin, fiercely protective but happy and affectionate. He thought of how Marco looked at Jean, sad and warm, but hopeful.

Eren thought of how Jean looked at him.

Fuck. Shit.

Eren felt like such a bastard. Probably the biggest bastard in history. Marco was not only so obviously in love with Jean, he was probably also the nicest guy in the whole goddamn world. No exceptions. And Jean was the stupidest guy in the world for not realising it, and for looking at Eren in the same way which Connie looked at Sasha. 

Except Eren was pretty sure he felt the same way in the quiet moments he got alone with himself and his thoughts. Happy, sure. Pleased, to an extent, yeah. Only, less soft and more ‘I’m gonna break your nose but in a loving way’. Because no amount of soft feelings eclipsed the fact that Jean was a pretentious tool who was taller than Eren by an infuriating five inches. And never missed an opportunity to point that out. Eren couldn’t imagine having the sort of relationship with Jean that Connie and Sasha did. Twelve years of friendly aggression didn’t disappear just because Eren’s heart beat a little faster at the thought of Jean giving him warm little looks when he thought Eren wasn’t looking.

Then Jean just fucking ruined the soft little moment Eren was generating by burping loudly and snickering.

Eren lay there for a few minutes, just fucking beating himself up. He was so fucking done with himself. So done he was on another plane of reality. Why the fuck did he have to inadvertently fall for Jean fucking Kirschtein, of all people. He should’ve just tried it with that short dude who always hung around the gas station where Eren worked when he had the chance. No man needed gas that often, he just stuck around to stare at Eren’s ass. 

Eren sat up, cracking his back as he did so and shaking Jean’s hand off his neck. “Excuse me, Jean, I was having a fucking moment there.” He snapped irritably. Jean’s cheeks looked a bit pink, possibly at being caught with his hand on Eren. Eren desperately tried not to find that cute, and channelled Mikasa to give Jean a truly stinking glare.

“What?” Jean said dumbly, staring at Eren like they weren’t driving on a highway, for God’s sake.

“Just pull over, it’s my turn to drive.” Eren said tiredly, dragging his hand over his face. Goddamn feelings.

\--------

_Hour 7_

“Can I use this to roll on?”

Eren took his eyes off the road to glance over at Jean, who was holding up the car manual from the glove box. He shrugged.

“Yeah, go on.”

Looking pleased, Jean twisted round in the seat to get the little zipped bag he kept all his weed and skins in. “I hope the stuff Connie gave me is any good.” He commented, dropping a hunk of weed into his grinder. “You want it blunt?”

“Christ no, I’m trying to drive here.” Eren was tempted, but the joints Jean rolled were strong enough without making it blunt.

Eren watched Jean’s reflection in the windshield as he rolled, mind only half focused on driving. Irritatingly, Jean rolled a really good joint. Eren did okay, but if you wanted a good one, Jean was the guy to go to. Eren watched as his surprisingly deft fingers tucked the skin round. Jean had nice fingers, lean and long - the knuckles too big for the rest of his hand. Really attractive fingers, actually. Eren only realised he was staring when his eyes travelled with the joint to Jean’s mouth as he wet the skin with the tip of tongue. Eren tore his eyes back to the road quickly. For fuck’s sake. Did he really need to have had a romantic epiphany right now? Eren could probably go down in history for worst timing in the world.

“You wanna start it?” 

“Nah, you go ahead.” Eren said, squinting up a billboard advertising a McDonalds close by. “Let’s pull over for food in a bit.” He heard the soft _snick_ of a lighter, then the distinctive smell of weed filled the car.

Eren glanced across at Jean to see him nodding, eyebrows raised. “Sounds good.” He said tightly, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose as he spoke. Still holding the smoke in, he passed the joint to Eren, who inhaled before passing it back to Jean, who was exhaling smoke slowly.

“Nice.” Eren said, and exhaled. He caught Jean’s eye and grinned. He definitely ignored the way his stupid, traitor heart beat a little faster when Jean returned his grin.

\---------

_Hour 8_

By ten, it was almost pitch black outside and Eren was both pleasantly stoned and absolutely starving.

“I’ve got the munchies so bad.” He complained, eyes scanning the road ahead for a turn off. “I feel like some really gross diner food.”

Jean hummed. “Yeah, yes. Same.” He was curled up in the passenger seat, eyes unfocused and lazy on the road. Jean always got sleepy when he was stoned.

Eren snapped his fingers in front of Jean’s face, grinning when Jean jumped and glared at him. “Stay with me, Kirschtein. I’ll buy you a burger.”

Jean’s expression softened and he gave Eren a languid grin. “I could marry you right now.”

“Over my father’s dead body.” Eren said huffily. “So save it, loverboy.” Something about Jean’s expression was cutting through his pleasant haze. Trust Jean to fucking ruin everything with his stupid soft-pleased-happy expressions and his big hands curling over the ripped knees of his jeans as he leant forward to press play on the CD player. Eren stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Not if you want to keep your teeth.”

Jean relaxed back in his seat with an easy smile, melting into the upholstery in a way which Eren could relate with. He was fairly sure he was driving the car maybe a foot off the ground. Fuck, he was stoned. “Hands on the wheel, Captain.” Jean said, and Eren snapped him a salute before dropping both hands back on the steering wheel.

A little while later they turned off into the parking lot of a neon lit greasy spoon. It looked absolutely perfect. Eren sat in the car admiring it for a minute before getting out of the car and into the diner, Jean in tow.

“Do you think it’s obvious? Are my eyes red?” Eren worried in a low voice as they slid into a booth near the window. Their knees bumped under the table, because Jean was too fucking tall to function. Eren shoved Jean’s knees with his own, and it soon devolved into a kicking match under the table.

“Um…?”

Eren froze and untangled his legs from Jean’s, who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Shoulders shaking, he turned away to look out the window, lips clamped tightly together. Unbidden, Eren felt laughter well up in him but he forced himself to meet the dumbstruck waitress’ gaze.

“Sorry about that.” He said tightly, trying to compose himself and act as sober as possible. He picked up the menu and made a big show of looking through it. “Black coffee, please. And, uh, the biggest burger you have.” He glanced across at Jean, who had thankfully stopped laughing and was staring at the waitress with a winning smile. Eren snorted and rolled his eyes. Figures that Jean would try and get on anything that moved.

“I’ll have the same.” He said, dropping the tone of his voice and looking up at the waitress through his hair. The waitress coloured, scribbled something down on the notepad, and beat a hasty exit to the kitchen. 

“I’ve still got it.” Jean said smugly, lowering his head onto his crossed arms on the tabletop and smirking up at Eren. Eren rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, way to go, you can get girls all flustered. Except you’re gay and incapable of getting a date.” Eren drummed his fingers on the greasy tabletop and ignored the fact that he apparently wanted to date Jean.

Jean shot him a hurt look. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Eren watched Jean go, suddenly reminded of just how many caffeinated drinks he’d consumed on the trip so far. He got up to use the bathroom as Jean left it, and accepted the enthusiastic high five Jean offered as they passed each other.

“Hope you washed your hands.” Eren shot over his shoulder, drawing looks from a couple of truckers sitting at the counter. Eren ducked his head and tried to look as not-gay and not-stoned as possible.

When he returned to their table, the food had arrived and Jean was unattractively digging into his burger. Eren slid into the booth and reconsidered his sanity for being attracted to Jean. The food looked unappetising under the harsh fluorescent lights, but Eren was hungry enough to eat something Mikasa had cooked, and she was a _horrific_ cook.

“Jesus fuckin’ wept.” Eren announced, clasping his hands together and staring at his food beatifically. “Is it good?”

Jean nodded and took a drink of his coffee, “I’m having a religious experience.”

\-----------

_Hour 9_

Jean was right, the food was incredible. Just the right side of too greasy, the burger cooked perfectly. The only let down was the coffee, which was bitter and gritty, but Eren hadn’t expected a lot. As long as he never had to drink another Red Bull in his life, he didn’t mind. The thought made him want to fucking commit.

“Christ, I’m hungry.” Eren said, reaching for his coffee again and wrinkling his nose as he took a sip. 

Jean nodded, and stared wistfully at the half of Eren’s burger that remained. He’d finished his own, as well as three cups of that deadly black coffee. “I’m never gonna be full.” He lamented, and Eren cut him off before he started waxing poetic about fucking fries, or something equally stupid.

“You’re not eating the rest of my burger.”

“I’m bigger than you!” Jean exclaimed, leaning across the table and staring at Eren with beseeching eyes. 

“No you fuckin’ aren’t!” Eren spluttered indignantly, drawing his plate closer to him and taking a bite from what remained of his burger.

“Eren, I am five-”

Eren cut him off, feeling the urge to laugh again. “That doesn’t count, Kirschtein. It takes a lot to maintain a physique like _this_.” He gestured to himself and didn’t miss the way Jean’s eyes lingered on him. He smirked smugly, feeling quite brave. He ate the rest of his burger triumphantly, whilst Jean watched him closely, glaring whenever Eren caught his gaze. 

They paid after they both forced down another cup of coffee from the blushing waitress to keep them awake, and stumbled out of the bright diner into the neon dusted parking lot. Eren paused as his eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, the caught hold of Jean’s arm to steady himself, laughing. God bless Connie and his truly astounding pot connections. Eren was still starving and still pleasantly stoned. The floor of the parking lot seemed to be moving under his feet. He laughed and let go of Jean’s arm, taking an experimental step forward. Jean followed.

“Is the ground moving for you?”

“Yeah.” Jean said comfortably, slinging his arm around Eren’s neck and bumping his hip against his.

“Good.” Eren said fervently, and desperately tried not to tip his head into Jean’s hand as he curled his fingers into the hair at the nape of Eren’s neck. 

“Your hair’s getting long.” Jean commented, coming to a standstill about a foot away from the car. Eren wanted to kiss him so badly it was pathetic. 

So he did.

Jean tasted of the bitter black coffee from the diner, and this close he smelt of cigarettes and aftershave. He made a surprised sound in the back of his throat when Eren tugged him close by the stretched out collar to his t-shirt, and his hand in Eren’s hair tightened. Eren kissed him hard, encouraged by the noises Jean was making against his lips. Jean moved his hands to Eren’s jaw, and curved his fingers there, tipping Eren’s head back more.

It wasn’t very romantic, not anything like the corny dramas Armin liked to watch, but it suited them. Like anything to do with either of them would be all soft and romantic. This was the same guy who once punched Eren hard enough he tasted blood every time he brushed his teeth for weeks.

Eren was just trying very, very hard not to be turned on by Jean’s irritating five extra inches. Who would’ve fucking guessed that Eren would enjoy being the smaller one.

Jean kissed slowly, steadily. His big hands cupping Eren’s face, and his lips lazy on Eren’s, setting the pace, as if they had all the time in the world. As if they weren’t standing in the parking lot of a not exactly salubrious diner full of scary-looking truckers.

Eren just fisted his hands in the front of Jean’s shirt and tugged him down to his height so he didn’t have to strain to reach his mouth. In contrast to Jean’s calm, controlling kisses, Eren was wild, full of heat. He nipped quick little bites to Jean’s lips to make him gasp into Eren’s mouth, and just like that, Eren was hard. Motherfucker.

He pushed Jean back, hand clutching his t-shirt, but keeping a distance. He watched as a bead of bright red blood bloomed on Jean’s well-kissed lower lip. Jean flicked out a tongue, quick, to lick it away. Eren sighed - _motherfucker_ \- and pulled Jean close to kiss him again.

After they broke apart, Jean rested his forehead against’s Eren’s, breathing unsteadily and grinning. Eren could _really_ relate. He couldn’t make out a lot of Jean’s face in the semi-darkness of the parking lot, and hoped that Jean too couldn’t see the way he was smiling. 

“I’ve been waiting seven years to do that.” Jean said in an awestruck voice, his gaze needling into Eren, who rolled his eyes. Jean was an awful romantic - the amount of indie romance films he watched had rotted his brain. He was probably _this_ close to shooting in his pants because Eren had kissed him out of nowhere whilst stoned late at night. It was the basic formula for any of the crap Jean watched. All they needed right now was rain to kiss in.

Eren huffed and pushed Jean lightly. “Learn to take some decisive action then, asshole.” 

“You’re just a fuckin’ tease.” Jean mocked, dropping his hands to pinch Eren’s hip. His fingers were cold on Eren’s skin and he grinned viciously.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffed, shoving against Jean, who stumbled and laughed. “ _I’m_ the tease?”

“That’s what I said.” Jean said, his eyes glinting in the neon light of the diner. Eren laughed in disbelief, giddy from the thrill of kissing someone new, the happiness that Jean _did_ like him, that Jean had kissed him back. They went horribly together: strong personality clashing against strong personality, but it didn’t matter because Jean was the only person in the world who’d have a semi-playful scuffle with Eren in a dirty parking lot of a roadside diner. Buoyed by this knowledge, Eren swung a fist at Jean’s ribs, grinning at the surprised yelp that came from Jean’s kiss-bitten lips as it connected.

“You’re going down, Jeager.” Jean gritted out, clutching his ribs with a smirk on his face.

“What, now? I thought we could at least wait unt-” The rest of Eren’s sentence was broken off by a breathless ‘oof’ as Jean tackled him to the ground. The gravelly ground scraped his back as he landed, knocking the air out of him. He blinked up at Jean, who was leaning over him grinning. He opened his mouth, probably for some retort that he thought was snappy but was just embarrassing as hell. Eren cut him off by grabbing the front of his t-shirt and pulling Jean down on top of him.

They wrestled on the floor for a bit, sweaty and stoned and laughing. Eren getting God-knows-what crap in the scrapes on his back, and Jean getting a punch square on the jaw for his troubles. 

“You’re an asshole.” Jean hissed against Eren’s lips. He tasted like blood, metallic on Eren’s tongue. 

It was probably the furthest thing from soft and warm and gentle that Eren could think of, and he was infinitely grateful for it.

\------------

_Hour 10_

Jean’s hand was pale against the dark skin of Eren’s stomach, and Eren’s legs were cramping from being curled up awkwardly in the backseat of Jean’s goddamn tiny car.

“Hurry up.” He said breathlessly, fingers skating over the short hairs of Jean’s undercut. “We’ve got places to be, people to see.”

Jean answered him by swallowing around his cock and giving Eren a dark look through his hair. Eren whimpered and kept his mouth shut, because he was really, desperately interested in the notion of having an orgasm and didn’t want to give Jean any ideas about stopping.

His back stung as sweat mixed with the scrapes on the skin there as he resisted thrusting upwards into Jean’s mouth. When he swallowed, gasping and tipping his head back against the window, he could taste Jean in his mouth still. Which made him think of Jean’s cock in his mouth, heavy and just the right side of too big. The way Jean’s mouth dropped open, slack and pink as Eren sucked the head of his cock. The breathy, surprised little ‘oh’ he murmured before he came in Eren’s mouth.

“Jean, you’re so-” He cut himself off before he could get fucking embarrassing, and silently cursed how stupid he got whenever his cock was in someone’s mouth.

Jean took his mouth off him, and smirked up at Eren, who thudded his head against the window in frustration. “I’m so what, Eren?”

Eren tried not to let how Jean said his name get to him, all low and rough and fucking _caressing_ it, but he was only human. His cock twitched in Jean’s hand, and he glared when Jean failed to do anything about it.

“I’m so what, _Eren_.” Jean repeated, his voice dropping lower. Eren couldn’t help himself from making an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat as Jean touched his cock teasingly slow. It wasn’t his fault that hearing Jean say his name like that turned him on. It was usually an aggressive _‘Jaeger’_ spit between bloodied lips, or an irritated, abrupt ‘Eren’ when Eren interrupted Jean in the middle of one of his fucking French films. More recently, a more teasing, affectionate ‘Jaeger’ when they were both in a good mood and joking with each other. But never like _that_. Full of heat and ragged from Eren’s cock in his throat.

Eren relented, irritated by the slow pace Jean was setting, and the way his hand was pressing Eren’s hips into the seat to keep him still. “You’re so fucking _good with your mouth_ , alright.” He huffed and carded his fingers through the longer part of Jean’s hair to guide his mouth back to his cock.

Jean was smirking up at him, too stubborn to just go back to sucking Eren’s cock. Eren glared back, too proud to beg, even if the thought of begging for Jean’s mouth sent a wave of prickly heat through him. Again, Eren was surprised at just how fucking _submissive_ he was turning out to be. 

Eventually, Eren broke the stalemate by dropping his gaze to Jean’s lips and murmuring a soft “please” which made Jean’s eyes darken as he dropped his mouth back to Eren’s cock. Eren groaned as Jean picked up the pace of both his mouth and his hand, and the irritation at having to ask for Jean to blow him was drowned out in a wave of _ohfuckthatfeelsgood_.

Just before he came, Eren muttered a mostly unintelligible warning to Jean and tugged on his hair - it was only fair, Jean had done the same for him. Jean finished him off with his hand and watched wide eyed and intent as Eren came all over his stomach and Jean’s fist with a moan. 

When Eren got back his senses, he scowled lazily at Jean and swatted him in the shoulder. “The fuck did you stare at me for.”

Jean untangled himself from his cramped position on the floor of the backseat and gave Eren a pleased grin. “You look so stupid when you come.” He made an over-exaggerated expression that Eren assumed was his O face, and snickered as he picked a sock off the literal trash heap that was his car floor to wipe his hand and Eren’s stomach.

“Fuck you.” Eren muttered, hurt. He reached for his t-shirt and tugged it on before buttoning his jeans back up. When he looked up at Jean, he looked surprised, cheeks still pink from sucking Eren’s cock. God.

“Wait - Eren. That was a joke.” He grinned waveringly. “Don’t tell me you’ve managed to lose your sense of humour after just one orgasm.” At Eren’s disbelieving expression, his grin grew bolder, teasing. “Was it really that good?”

Eren balled up his fists, feeling stupid, but ended up just pulling Jean in for a rough hug. Eren was a sucker for hugs. “No it wasn’t, you pretentious bastard.”

“Well, I _was_ compromised on space-”

“Shut up.” Eren pressed his nose against Jean’s neck. “Just. Be quiet.” 

Jean complied, for once in his stubborn goddamn life. They managed a stunning two minutes of quiet before Jean piped up again.

“You know, we _do_ have places to be, people to see, etcetera.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft and Eren realised they were skirting dangerously close to soft-warm-gentle territory. He thought about the soft looks Jean would give him when he thought Eren wasn’t looking, and felt something funny in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He said quickly, dropping a kiss to the skin of Jean’s neck, and another to his jaw, lips scraping over the stubble there. “Get off me, let’s go.” When he pulled away, Jean was grinning happily. 

Eren couldn’t thank Bert and Connie and Ymir and the rest of them for being the worst friends in the world and flaking out on the road trip.

He wondered absently if it was pre-meditated.

**Author's Note:**

> I cut it off before they got to new york because I’ve never actually been there. Or been on a road trip. Or y’know, kissed jean Kirschtein. Actually the only thing I’ve ever done in this story is have the munchies in a gross greasy spoon late at night. Also, sorry this is so long it kinda got out of hand as u can probably tell um
> 
> if u want to hmu to talk about how pretentious!jean holds a small piece of ur soul my tumblr url is girlshinji (but watch out it’s nsfw)
> 
> thank u for reading i love u all


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